


in your arms i'll stay

by artenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, their relationship makes itself known to the others because Kuroo doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself—although Tsukishima is almost positive that Kuroo purposely waited for him to be standing by the bus surrounded by every single one of his teammates before sidling up and wrapping his arms around him from behind.</p><p>(Or, five times Kuroo initiates hugging/kissing, and one time Tsukishima does.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	in your arms i'll stay

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has drained so much of my time and energy tbh. it was meant to be a short fic in which kuroo was sappy and embarrassing and tsukki was sappy and embarrassed but somehow it became...this... also, i started it when i first met cairah, so this, like most of my kurotsuki fics, is for you. <3
> 
> title is from in your arms by kina grannis
> 
>  
> 
> [also on tumblr](http://artenon.tumblr.com/post/100144092655/in-your-arms-ill-stay-kurotsuki)

**1**

Tsukishima isn’t sure whether they’ve been intentionally keeping their relationship a secret. He’s not a fan of public displays of affection in the first place, and Kuroo seems to make a game out of dragging Tsukishima off to make out where no one can see them, but he doesn’t think either of them is actively trying to hide the fact that they are dating—inasmuch as their relationship can be considered dating, anyway. They’ve never clearly defined their relationship, which mostly consists of making out when they’re together and texting (initiated by Kuroo ninety-nine percent of the time) when they’re not, but Tsukishima has tentatively decided that their relationship falls within the parameters of dating.

It’s not like he’s been jumping to tell everyone, but he does want to know where he and Kuroo stand on this. Does Kuroo just not want anyone to know that he’s fooling around with a first-year from another team? That’s the most reasonable answer.

It’s probably true, he thinks as Kuroo leads him to the supply closet after yet another practice match.

“You don’t need two people to get a few mops,” he says even though he knows what’s coming, because protests are pretty much standard procedure by this point.

“Well, that’s not _all_ I want you for,” Kuroo says, turning back and waggling his eyebrows, and Tsukishima isn’t sure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed. He opts for rolling his eyes. Cheesy, dubiously seductive lines are also to be expected at these times. He never takes these situations, or Tsukishima, seriously—which makes Tsukishima wonder how seriously he takes their relationship at all.

“Wait,” he says before Kuroo can shove him against the wall and tease his mouth open with his tongue as he so often does.

“Hmm?”

“Is our relationship a secret?”

He asks it bluntly, directly, so that Kuroo can’t try to skate around it. If he does, Tsukishima will end this— _whatever_ —right here where he stands. He’d rather not prolong his disappointment.

Although he has to wonder _why_ he’d be so disappointed. Tsukishima’s never stopped to ask himself what he expects out of this relationship. He’s not ready to confront that part of himself.

Rather than try to dodge the topic, dismiss it with a smirk and offhand comment, though, Kuroo just looks a bit confused as he says, “I thought you wanted it to be.”

And Tsukishima doesn’t have an answer to that, because he’s not sure of what he wants. He just wants to know what Kuroo wants. He wants to know if their relationship means anything to him besides sneaked kisses and a couple imprudent blowjobs in the bathroom.

“Well,” he starts without knowing what he intends to say, but Kuroo interrupts him anyway.

“Okay,” Kuroo says, and then he’s on Tsukishima with his mouth.

Tsukishima wants to stop him, because he didn’t really answer his question, but Kuroo knows what he likes, and so it’s too easy to simply open his mouth and kiss back. Kuroo’s tongue is hot against his, and his hands are braced on his shoulders as he presses closer. When Kuroo starts to suck on his lower lip, Tsukishima has to stifle a soft groan.

“Hey,” Kuroo mumbles, moving down to scrape his teeth against Tsukishima’s throat. “After this maybe we can have a quickie in the bathroom.”

Tsukishima wipes saliva from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck off. We almost got caught last time.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be a secret?”

Kuroo is still nuzzling his neck, biting gently on his throat, not hard enough to leave any marks. Tsukishima isn’t sure why he’s letting him. Because it feels good and he’s shallow, he reasons. That doesn’t mean he can’t be upset at the same time.

“I don’t want to be caught with my pants down in the bathroom with you like your dirty little secret,” he snaps.

Now Kuroo pulls back, hands still resting on his shoulders as he gives him a considering look.

“I get it,” he says.

“Get what?” Tsukishima asks, irritated.

“Come on, we’d better get back out there before people start getting suspicious.” Kuroo finally exits Tsukishima’s breathing space and grabs a mop in each hand.

“ _What_ do you get?” Tsukishima asks again, following him, but Kuroo doesn’t answer, just shoves a mop at him and tells him to clean the floor.

“Ass,” Tsukishima mutters, rubbing his throat where he can still feel the phantom of Kuroo’s teeth.

 

**2**

In the end, their relationship makes itself known to the others because Kuroo doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself—although Tsukishima is almost positive that Kuroo purposely waited for him to be standing by the bus surrounded by every single one of his teammates before sidling up and wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“Tsukkiii,” he says, voice muffled because his face is pressed into Tsukishima’s back, “I’m going to miss you.”

Tsukishima is probably unsuccessful in fighting off his blush, but he at least forces his voice flat when he says, “Why are you acting like we’ll never see each other again.”

He wonders if this unexpected display of affection has anything to do with their conversation from earlier. If Kuroo being annoying and vague can even be considered holding up an end of a conversation, anyway.

“Whether it’s a week or an hour, of course I’ll miss the person I love,” Kuroo says.

“Holy shit,” Tanaka says.

“What the hell,” Kageyama and Hinata say at the same time.

“Tsukki?!” Yamaguchi exclaims.

Tsukishima ignores everyone’s open-mouthed stares and tugs ineffectually on Kuroo’s arm. “Don’t fuck around.”

Kuroo kisses him on the cheek. “But I’m not.”

Tsukishima turns to glare at him, because he can’t exactly say out loud, _You’ve never said you love me before, so if you’re saying it now, with everyone else around to hear, then yeah, you probably are fucking around_ , but Kuroo just takes the opportunity to plant a quick closemouthed kiss on his lips.

“Get off me,” Tsukishima says. “I’m leaving.”

Kuroo backs off. “Call me tonight, okay?” He grins and waves. “I love you!”

Tsukishima doesn’t intend to reply but the, “No, you don’t,” escapes him anyway. It’s an almost instinctive reaction.

He boards the bus and claims his usual seat, doesn’t even listen to his teammates’ questions fully before saying, “That wasn’t anything. He was just messing around.”

He pulls his headphones on, turns the volume for his music higher than usual, and resolves to ignore everyone for the entire ride back.

His phone vibrates less than five minutes after the bus starts moving. It’s a text from Kuroo, and all it says is, _I did mean it, though._

 

**3**

 “When I asked you to come over, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Kuroo says.

Tsukishima, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, turns the page in his textbook, tapping his pen absently on his notebook page as his eyes scan the words in front of him. “Too bad. I have a test tomorrow.”

“You could have told me you were busy,” Kuroo says. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I can study here just as well as at home.” Tsukishima considers his words, then amends, “Well, actually, I probably study better at home, because you’re not there to distract me.”

Kuroo sets a steaming mug of green tea on the coffee table beside Tsukishima’s textbook. “Just tell me next time.”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Whatever,” he says. He picks up the mug and takes a sip of the tea. He winces—the tea is too hot—and sets the mug back down and returns to his textbook.

Kuroo reaches over to pick the mug up, arm brushing Tsukishima’s shoulder, and heads back to the kitchen.

“I don’t mind the company,” Tsukishima says quietly as he reads the same paragraph for at least the fourth time.

“What was that?” Kuroo calls from the kitchen.

Tsukishima presses his lips into a thin line and doesn’t response.

“Here, I added some cold water,” Kuroo says, setting the mug down again. “What did you say?”

“I,” Tsukishima says through gritted teeth, “don’t mind the company.”

“Tsukki!” Kuroo gasps, throwing his arms around Tsukishima. “You really do like spending time with me!”

“Don’t call me that. Let go of me.” Tsukishima leans away, but Kuroo follows him until the weight causes them to topple over onto the floor, Kuroo sprawled on top of Tsukishima.

“You’re seriously nice,” Kuroo says.

“I’m not, get off.”

Kuroo responds by tickling his neck, and a startled laugh bursts from Tsukishima’s mouth.

“F-fuck you,” he says around a giggle, and he starts kicking. “Get off!”

“Say ‘mercy,’” Kuroo says without relenting, even though Tsukishima is at least fifty percent sure he’s bruised Kuroo’s leg with his kicks by now.

 “No, you ass, stop it!”

Kuroo rolls them over so that he’s on the floor on his back, Tsukishima trapped between his arms and his chest, and Tsukishima’s leg bangs into the coffee table leg in the process.

“Ow, fuck—”

“Shh,” Kuroo says, and kisses the back of his neck.

Tsukishima’s a little out of breath from laughing, and he decides that he just can’t be bothered to push Kuroo’s arms away to roll off of him.

“I hate you,” Tsukishima says.

Kuroo is quiet for a moment, and Tsukishima regrets his words. He can’t help it. He opens his mouth and mean shit comes out. Tsukishima is not surprised that he doesn’t have a lot of friends. He still struggles to find reasons to explain why and how he has a boyfriend.

Well. He understands part of it—Kuroo thinks he’s attractive. How Kuroo still tolerates him, that’s what he doesn’t know.

He wants to apologize, but he knows that if he tried he would just say something else rude. So instead, he just moves to get off of Kuroo, but Kuroo tightens his arms around Tsukishima.

“Thanks for coming today,” he says. “I can help you study, you know. I mean, I’ve been through these classes before, after all.”

Kuroo’s tone is too serious for the ridiculous position they’re in.

“It’s okay,” Tsukishima says, and this time Kuroo lets him pull away. “Sorry.”

Kuroo sits up. “For what?”

Tsukishima hesitates. “Never mind.”

Kuroo leans over and kisses him without preamble. Tsukishima lets his eyes slip shut as he kisses back, lets Kuroo touch his face with one hand and gently guide his head so he can deepen the kiss.

Their lips catch and linger when they pull apart, and Kuroo noses Tsukishima’s cheek. Tsukishima has to pretend that gesture doesn’t leave his heart feeling oddly fluttery.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can study. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Sure,” Tsukishima murmurs, and Kuroo stands up.

“I’ll just be reading in my room or something.”

“You can,” Tsukishima starts. “You can read out here. I don’t mind. Just don’t bother me,” he tacks on hastily.

The way Kuroo’s whole face seems to brighten catches Tsukishima off-guard. “No problem!” he says. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Tsukishima turns back to the coffee table. “Damn it,” he mutters. Kuroo is too nice, too good to him, and he wonders how selfish it is of him to hope that this lasts.

He notices that some of the tea has spilled from his mug onto the coffee table, probably when Tsukishima knocked his leg against the table. He gets a paper towel to clean up the mess, then takes a sip of the tea.

“Is it good?” Kuroo asks. He’s come back with his book.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima says. “It’s perfect.”

 

**4**

“I’m starting to feel like your dirty secret again.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well,” Tsukishima says, dropping onto his back on the queen-sized hotel bed, “this sort of situation feels like an affair, doesn’t it?”

“Try to think of it as me spoiling you with a night at a nice hotel.”

“Sure, but it’s only because you know it’ll get you laid.”

“Kei,” Kuroo gasps. “I would never dare to presume.”

“Yes, you would,” Tsukishima says, stomach flipping at the use of his first name, even though Kuroo’s been calling him that for a while now.

Kuroo sits down on the edge of the bed and looks at Tsukishima without saying anything. He has that look like he’s calculating something, and it makes Tsukishima feel unsettled, so he turns his face away, cheek pressing into the large, fluffy pillow.

It really is a nice hotel. The bed is large and the mattress is comfier than Tsukishima’s own. The food they had delivered to their room has left Tsukishima feeling sated, and he thinks he could fall asleep within minutes if he wanted, but he knows why they’re really here—so Kuroo can slowly strip him of his clothes, piece by piece, and take his time with him, instead of being rushed and quiet at late hours in each other’s homes.

“Let’s not have sex tonight,” Kuroo says after an age. He stretches and lies back on the bed beside Tsukishima.

Tsukishima eyes him suspiciously. “Why not?”

“Because I’m tired. Because I’m about to go into a food coma after that huge dinner. Because I just don’t feel like it. Do I need a reason?”

“Is this a test?” Tsukishima asks.

Kuroo turns onto his side, propping his head on one hand. “I don’t know. Are you testing me?”

This is the problem with them, Tsukishima thinks. They’re both too perceptive, and so they both try to figure out each other’s games while playing their own.

_What are you thinking right now? What do you want me to say? What’s your ulterior motive?_

Kuroo sighs. “You think too much, you know. It’s all over your face.”

“Really?” Tsukishima scowls. “Then what am I thinking?”

It’s a reckless question. Kuroo is sharp enough already, and he has the additional advantage of knowing Tsukishima better than the average person. But he’s annoyed because he can’t figure Kuroo out, and he wants to challenge him.

He doesn’t expect Kuroo to hit the nail right on the head.

“You’re thinking I just brought you here for sex. You think because I paid for this fancy hotel and dinner that you owe me something. You don’t think it’s possible that I brought you here for such a simple reason like _I want to make you happy._ ”

Tsukishima is silent.

“Am I wrong?”

“Fuck off,” Tsukishima says, turning his back to Kuroo.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” Kuroo says. “I just want to spend time with you. It doesn’t matter how, as long as you’re having fun. Thought you might have figured that out since I first told you I love you.”

There is no game. That’s what Kuroo is telling him, isn’t it?

“There has to be a catch,” he says.

“Why does there have to be a catch?”

 _Because good things don’t happen._ Tsukishima grits his teeth. He knows he doesn’t deserve Kuroo. And he wants to be someone Kuroo deserves, but it’s really goddamn hard. He can’t just wake up and be a different person. And there’s no way Kuroo should want to stay with a shitty person like him for however long it takes for him to get the fuck over himself and sort himself out.

“Why do you even like me?” Tsukishima asks, resigned.

He’s expecting sarcasm, or teasing. _Fishing for compliments now, Tsukki?_

“You’re smart,” Kuroo says. “Not just smart. You’re incisive. You can keep your cool in a volleyball game. You’re not too proud to ask for help. You listen. Really well, actually. You listen to criticism, to advice, to stories you probably don’t care about but pay attention to anyway because you care about the person telling them. You’re fun to talk to. I like how we can have intelligent discussions about literature or arguments about whether I own too many pairs of shoes. I like your humor, even when it’s at my expense. You’re really cute when you smile and I have this theory that when you laugh, the world becomes a brighter place.” He pauses. “You’re also really nice to me, on the whole, and you’re basically amazing.”

Tsukishima is blushing, probably. Definitely. He repeats each reason in his mind, over and over, and feels a twinge in his chest. It’s a little hard to breathe.

“You’re thinking there are better people out there for me, so what’s the point. But I like _you_. You know,” Kuroo says, “you’re surprisingly insecure.”

“Thank you,” Tsukishima says, sarcastic, because he’s not sure how to respond honestly. “You do, by the way.”

“What?”

“You own too many pairs of shoes.”

“Oh.” Kuroo huffs a little, amused. “That’s debatable.” He pauses. “There is no catch,” he says, not forcefully, like he’s trying to make Tsukishima see his view, but like it’s the simplest thing, just a statement of fact. “I want to give you everything without the expectation of anything in return, because I just want you to be happy.”

Tsukishima stares at the wall across from him. His vision is blurred because his eyes are stinging with tears that he wishes desperately he could will away, and there’s an awful lump in his throat. He swallows past it.

He thinks he can say it like this, with his back to Kuroo. He closes his eyes.

“I love you,” he tries. It doesn’t feel as awkward on his tongue as he thought it would. He says it again. “I love you.”

Kuroo’s arms wrap around him from behind. “I love you, too, Kei.”

Tsukishima leans back into his touch. Kuroo’s breath tickles his hair. _Maybe_ , he thinks, _just maybe, I can keep this._

Maybe he can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he can just believe that it will work out. Maybe he can just love Kuroo.

He wants to make Kuroo as happy as Kuroo’s made him. Right now, Kuroo’s arms are wrapped tight around him, and Tsukishima can feel his heart beating against him, and he keeps saying, “I love you, too. I love you so much,” and Tsukishima can actually hear the smile in his voice.

If Tsukishima loving Kuroo back makes him this happy—well, it’s the very least Tsukishima can do, but he plans to give him so much more.

 

**5**

It’s a longer train ride to visit Kuroo once he’s in college. Tsukishima spends most of it yawning and staring out the window, or closing his eyes and resting but not sleeping, or rereading his texts with Kuroo from last night (‘Why are you going to bed early?’ ‘Uhh, because I have to wake up early if I don’t want to miss the early train?’ ‘Wait I thought you said you were coming over this weekend if I was still sick, I’m not sick anymore.’ ‘I lied. I’m going anyway.’ ‘Well, I definitely won’t complain about that. Good night, I can’t wait to see you!! <3’) and smiling at his phone before catching himself. He left early in the morning, when the sun wasn’t even properly up yet, and he felt a little ridiculous as he shuffled onto the train stifling a yawn, but he can’t imagine it won’t be worth it.

He almost expects Kuroo to be there waiting for him when the train finally comes to a rest, and he’s a little disappointed when he’s not, but he quells it thinking that if Kuroo _was_ there, Tsukishima would have definitely scolded him—he needs to stay in his room and rest, not hang around in a chilly train station—and he’d rather not start their weekend together off with an argument when they get to spend so little time with each other in-person in the first place.

And so Tsukishima takes the bus to Kuroo’s college alone. He’s dropped off a few blocks away from the dorms and has to check the map on his phone twice to make sure he’s not going the wrong way.

When he looks up from his phone the second time he notices that he’s by a flower shop, and his steps falter as he peers in through the window. With a shrug, he ducks inside.

“Good morning!” the shopkeeper says, smiling. “How can I help you today?”

Tsukishima’s gaze sweeps over the flowers. He doesn’t really care for flowers, honestly. They don’t last long, and some of them make him sneeze. Already the cloying smell of all the flowers in this tiny space is making him uncomfortable. He couldn’t name most of these, though he bets Kuroo could, and give him the symbolic meaning of them to boot.

Still, he’s not completely hopeless, no matter how much Kuroo bemoans his ignorance of the finer points of romance. Although he supposes it’d be pretty pathetic if he didn’t at least know the significance of red roses.

“I’ll just take a bouquet of those,” he says, pointing at them.

He looks at the roses as he exits the shop and feels a little self-conscious as he walks down the sidewalk, bouquet in hand, and he stares at the ground as he walk so he doesn’t make eye contact with anyone.

 _I’m here_ , he texts Kuroo once he’s standing outside the dorm building, and hides the bouquet behind his back.

He gets three hearts in response, and a few minutes later, Kuroo is there. Tsukishima takes one look at his face, so unreservedly happy, and the hours long train ride is already worth it.

He holds up the bouquet for Kuroo before he can say anything.

“I saw a flower shop on the way here,” he says with a shrug, “so I thought I’d get you something. I know you like this sort of thing, so—”

Kuroo hugs him. Really tightly. Tsukishima can’t breathe.

“Tetsurou.”

“I love you so much,” Kuroo says—his voice is a little hoarse, Tsukishima notes—and kisses him on the cheek.

Tsukishima thinks Kuroo is making kind of a big deal out of a single bouquet he bought pretty much on a whim. Kuroo always goes all out with his romantic gestures and compared to those, one bouquet should be nothing. And yet Kuroo is looking at him with such an elated, _besotted_ expression, as if he’d made some extravagant gesture like Kuroo would have, and not something so run-of-the-mill.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tsukishima says.

Kuroo takes the bouquet from him. “I seriously, really love you a lot.”

Tsukishima shakes his head as Kuroo pulls him inside the building and to the elevator, humming happily to himself. Kuroo is absolutely overreacting and getting flowers isn’t even that great, really, but if it makes him so happy, Tsukishima supposes he can bring him some more often. Whenever they can see each other in person, anyway.

Which reminds him.

“I almost expected you to be at the station,” Tsukishima says. “Don’t take it the wrong way when I say I’m glad you weren’t.”

“I thought about going,” Kuroo admits. “I thought you might appreciate it, and then I thought you might appreciate it more if I didn’t.”

That startles a small laugh from Tsukishima. Of course Kuroo gets him so completely. He shouldn’t have expected any less from him.

He coughs into his hand when Kuroo gives him a ridiculously smitten smile. He should be _used_ to his laugh by now, uncommon as it is. It always comes out a lot more around Kuroo, anyway.

“Do you feel better, though?” he asks. “Have you been resting?”

“Yes, yes, I told you, I’m not sick anymore.”

“It’s because you overworked yourself,” Tsukishima says, disapproving.

“Yeah, you told me that, too,” Kuroo says. “It was just a little cold, though. And I’m feeling much better now.”

“Your voice is still hoarse.”

“Only a little!”

The elevator door slides open and they step inside. Kuroo hits the button for his floor, saying, “You don’t have to worry so much about me. I’ve already had to put up with Bokuto in full mother hen mode.” He pauses, looking contemplative. “Hmm…mother owl?”

“Well, I brought you a pack of tea anyway,” Tsukishima says, ignoring the tangent. “It’s in my bag. Since you probably drank all the tea you own this past week.”

“I was just thinking earlier that I needed to go out and buy more. How are you always so thoughtful?” Kuroo asks, as if Kuroo isn’t incredibly thoughtful himself.

He’s been better about his self-esteem, he really has. He’s a lot more self-confident, not just in volleyball, but also in relationships, in _their_ relationship. But sometimes he still catches himself feeling dumbfounded by how Kuroo seems to think he’s so amazing when Kuroo is so. Incredible. The most thoughtful, intelligent, compassionate person Tsukishima has ever met.

“I seriously,” he says, “really love you a lot, too.”

Tsukishima has to convince Kuroo not to make out with him in the elevator.

 

**+1**

Seven days. One week. That’s how long Tsukishima gets with Kuroo this time.

 _Today is the last day_ , Tsukishima thinks when he wakes up. After today, Kuroo will go back to Tokyo to spend the rest of his winter break with his family.

And since today is the last day, Tsukishima is a little disgruntled to find that Kuroo isn’t still in bed with him. After waking up with Kuroo’s warm body pressed up against his every day for the past week, waking up alone is—cold.

But at least it also means that they won’t linger in bed and waste their morning cuddling and kissing—though surely Kuroo wouldn’t find that a waste of a morning, and Tsukishima’s not sure if he would, either.

It takes another few minutes, but Tsukishima eventually gets up and washes up, though he doesn’t bother changing out of his pajamas before he starts to look for Kuroo.

He doesn’t find Kuroo, but he does find his brother in the living room, watching the Saturday morning cartoons on their television.

“Good morning!” Akiteru says when Tsukishima stands in front of the couch beside him.

“Morning,” Tsukishima says. “Where’s Tetsurou?”

“He went to buy milk,” Akiteru says, and puts his hand up in defense when Tsukishima frowns at him. “I offered to go! But he insisted. Very forcefully.”

Tsukishima sighs and sits down next to him.

“I like him,” Akiteru says. He looks at Tsukishima. “What? You were wondering if your big bro approved, right?”

“I don’t really care either way,” Tsukishima lies. Kuroo and Akiteru have met before, but Kuroo’s never stayed over for more than a night, and, fine, maybe he’s been a little nervous about what Akiteru makes of Kuroo and his habits of straightening up messes without asking if it’s okay to touch their stuff, taking naps on the couch and the floor at odd hours, and talking at the television when he’s watching something.

“I really do like him, though,” Akiteru says. “I finally got a chance to talk to him this morning. I mean, you two are usually glued together. I don’t think I’ve caught you apart all week until today.”

“That’s because we’re usually _not_ together. Anyway, the last time you talked to him alone, you told him embarrassing childhood stories and showed him pictures of me as a kid.”

“They’re not embarrassing! You were so cute—unlike now.” Akiteru pouts. “What happened to my cute little baby brother?”

“I was never cute,” Tsukishima retorts.

“You definitely were.”

Tsukishima looks pointedly at the television screen and not at Akiteru.

“I’m really happy for you,” Akiteru says, quiet, fond. “And I think you’ll both be happy together for a really long time.”

He doesn’t know where Akiteru finds that faith. He and Kuroo both, they’re so sure that things will just work out. Meanwhile, Tsukishima lies awake at night counting the years until he and Kuroo can finally physically be together for the long-term (Tsukishima will go to college in a couple years, Kuroo wants to study abroad for maybe a year and already thinks he’ll want to go to graduate school…) and wondering about how many things can go wrong in the interim.

It’s been a long time since Tsukishima felt like he was actively waiting for something to go wrong in their relationship, but when he starts thinking about the future—so far away—like this, he gets dizzy and feels like he’s falling in empty space.

Sometimes he just wants to _be with Kuroo_ so bad, and it’s hard. It’s frustrating.

He stands up. “I’m going to get something to eat,” he says, and walks away without looking at Akiteru.

But as he heads to the kitchen, he hears a key turning in the lock of the front door, and he changes course.

When Kuroo comes into the house, cheeks and nose ruddy from the cold, holding a plastic bag with a gallon of milk in one hand and a cluster of blue flowers in the other, Tsukishima has a moment of vertigo as he imagines that this might be something that happens every day, Kuroo coming back home, to _their_ home.

“Oh, hey,” Kuroo says, smiling. He offers Tsukishima the flowers.

“Winter’s not the best time to get flowers,” Kuroo says after Tsukishima takes them, and continues speaking as he takes his shoes off, setting down the bag with the milk. “Blue violets are symbols of faithfulness. They mean ‘I’ll always be true.’”

Tsukishima doesn’t generally care for getting flowers and they both know it, but Kuroo always tells him what the flowers he gets mean, and they feel more special then. It’s not really the flowers themselves he likes, but the gesture.

Tsukishima drops the violets.

“Hey, I paid for those,” Kuroo says, standing up, but his tone is joking. “Is something wrong?”

Tsukishima shakes his head and hugs Kuroo, tight as he can.

“Kei?”

“I missed you,” Tsukishima says.

He feels silly saying it. He’s been with Kuroo all week. He’s been awake for less than twenty minutes. But he doesn’t try to explain himself. He doesn’t know where to begin.

But Kuroo just returns the hug, his arms heavy and warm on his back.

“Yeah,” he says. “I missed you, too.”

“I wish you could stay,” Tsukishima says into his hair, because he can’t confess something like this and look Kuroo in the eye at the same time. “I want to be with you. I want to be together. I can’t—” He closes his eyes. “I can’t stand it sometimes.”

“I know,” Kuroo says. “I know. It’s frustrating. But one day we will. We’ll get an apartment together, and…we’ll adopt a dog. Or maybe a cat. We’ll get to kiss each other every day. I’ll cook, so I can finally make you eat healthier. And you’ll take care of me, I know you will. And we’ll be together.”

Tsukishima feels so young and so small. “Do you really believe that?”

He doesn’t think a relationship like theirs is supposed to last, but he doesn’t want to think that this might end someday. Their relationship feels like a constant. But when he looks into the future, it’s cloudy. It’s scary.

Kuroo takes Tsukishima’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. “With all my heart,” he says.

Tsukishima meets Kuroo’s eyes, so earnest and sure. Then his gaze flick down to his lips, and he wonders if it would be okay to kiss Kuroo, even though Akiteru is just in the other room. He doesn’t care what Kuroo or Akiteru say, kissing in front of his brother is weird.

“Oh, yeah, I got something else,” Kuroo says. His arm twitches, and Tsukishima drops his arms from Kuroo with some reluctance so Kuroo can dig his hand into his pocket.

“Ah,” Kuroo says, and pulls a crumpled bit of mistletoe from his pocket. He dangles it over their heads and grins at him. “I thought it was appropriate.”

Tsukishima really shouldn’t be surprised. Kuroo loves his romantic clichés.

“You don’t have to,” Kuroo starts when Tsukishima doesn’t react, but Tsukishima interrupts him, leaning forward to press their lips together.

Kuroo seems to expect a short kiss, and he makes a surprised little noise when Tsukishima moves to deepen it, pulling Kuroo closer and crushing one of his arms between their bodies. Kuroo’s other arm, still holding the mistletoe, drops to wrap around Tsukishima’s waist as Kuroo closes his eyes and opens his mouth.

They break apart when Tsukishima hears a noise, and he turns to see Akiteru standing there with a camera.

“That one’s going in the family album,” he says.

“Akiteru, oh my God,” Tsukishima says, feeling himself going red.

Kuroo detaches himself from Tsukishima. Akiteru and Kuroo high-five, and Tsukishima realizes with a sinking feeling that this was probably _planned_.

“That’s why you let Tetsurou go get the milk,” he accuses, and Akiteru shrugs.

“Kuroo and I both agree that there’s a really depressing lack of photos of you after the age of ten.”

“Let me see the picture,” Kuroo demands, trying to take the camera from Akiteru.

Akiteru tugs the camera back. “Okay, okay I’ll show you.”

“I hate both of you,” Tsukishima says.

Akiteru and Kuroo glance at each other before turning to Tsukishima with a smile.

“No you don’t,” they chorus.

They return their attention to the camera, and Tsukishima groans and turns away. He goes to put the milk away because Kuroo just left it sitting on the floor and he doesn’t want it to spoil, but mostly because he wants to not be there.

But as he puts the milk away and sees stuck to the fridge an old picture of him and Akiteru as kids, he can’t help but hear his brother’s words echo in his mind: _That one’s going in the family album._

_The family album._

Him and Kuroo.

Tsukishima still feels young and foolish and small but in that moment he really, with all his heart, believes that he and Kuroo will stay together, and that one day, finally, they’ll get to _be_ together.

 

**& coda**

Kuroo tilts his head back as he downs the rest of his coffee in one go.

“Alright, I’m off,” he says, setting his mug by the sink and running the back of his hand over his mouth. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Tsukishima stands from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table. They step toward each other in tandem, moving with a fluidity that comes from countless repetition. Tsukishima tugs lightly on Kuroo’s tie and Kuroo slides his hand behind Tsukishima’s head, and their mouths part as they pull each other in for a kiss. Kuroo tastes like the coffee he just drank. Tsukishima’s lips are probably sugary from his cereal.

Kuroo hums, smiling against his mouth. “Love you.”

Tsukishima pecks his lips. “Love you, too,” he says, then pushes him gently away. “Go, before you’re late.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Kuroo says. “Will you be home late tonight, too?”

Tsukishima grimaces. His current project at work has been making him stay late far too often recently. “Probably.”

“It’s fine. I’ll have dinner ready.” Kuroo grabs Tsukishima’s hand and lifts it up so he can brush his lips across the gold band on his ring finger. “I love you.”

“You already said that,” Tsukishima says, looking at their hands and blushing. His hand curls briefly around Kuroo’s and drops away. “I love you, too.”

Kuroo grins. “I love you.”

“You’re just doing it to hear me say it back, you ass. Go to work.”

He steers him to the door, grumbling and rolling his eyes, but when Kuroo pauses, hand on the doorknob, and turns back to kiss him one more time, Tsukishima is already leaning forward to meet him.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: NOW WITH [BEAUTIFUL FANART](http://artenon.tumblr.com/post/100357422170) AND ME CRYING FOREVER ABOUT IT


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